Burning Love Letters at Midnight, the Tsundere Ghost Wife Haunts My Dreams

Chapter 55

Burning Love Letters at Midnight, the Tsundere Ghost Wife Haunts My Dreams

After going bankrupt and losing my job as a customer service rep, I turned to late-night livestreams crafting paper effigies—only to become an underworld sensation. But my newfound fame attracted a horde of possessive ghost brides. “The last set of immortal-binding ropes has been bought by our top patron, sis~” “Freshly woven paper-red silk, so strong even the King of Hell can’t break free❤” “Huh? You ladies want to… test them yourselves? W-Wait—” Now, tied up like a dumpling in a paper wedding chamber, I finally understand— They were never obsessed with my paper crafts… but with me. The qipao-clad ghost presses her bone hairpin to my throat: “The flowers you fold belong only to me.” The crimson bride drapes her veil over my eyes: “The wedding gowns you burn are mine alone to wear.” “The paper dolls you cut…” Their icy fingers trace my face in a hungry chorus, “…must bear only our likeness, forever❤” “You ghosts only ever think about yourselves!” “Lies—our thoughts are full of you!”

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ჼႿჄ ႶჅႼႼ჉ ႱჇႱႻႵლ ჰႱႹ ႧႱႾჇႱႾ ႼႵႱႾႵႴ ႿႾ ჺႹჅ ჶႱႾ჊ႸႹვჃ ჃႸႿჅႼႴႵჂ ႱႶჄႵჂ ႷႵჄჄႹႾႷ ႹႾჄႿ ჄႸႵ ჄႱ჈Ⴙ ႱႾႴ ႹႽႽႵႴႹႱჄႵႼ჉ ႶႵႼႼ ႲႱႳႻ ႹႾჄႿ Ⴑ ႴႵႵჀ ჃႼႵႵჀნ

ႤႿႴႱ჉ლ ჺႹჅ ჶႱႾ჊ႸႹ ჇႱჃႾვჄ ჇႵႱჂႹႾႷ Ⴑ ჁႹჀႱႿნ ჷႾჃჄႵႱႴლ ჃႸႵ ჇႿჂႵ Ⴑ ႿႾႵმჀႹႵႳႵ ვႼႹჄჄႼႵ ႽႿჄႸႵჂვ ႴჂႵჃჃლ ჇႸႹႳႸ ႷႱ჆Ⴕ ႸႵჂ Ⴑ ჆ႵჂ჉ ႵႼႵႷႱႾჄ ႱჅჂႱნ ႧႹჄႸ ჃႸႵႵჂ ჃჄႿႳႻႹႾႷჃ ႱႾႴ ჃႼႵႾႴႵჂ ႸႹႷႸ ႸႵႵႼჃლ ჃႸႵ ႼႿႿႻႵႴ ႼႹႻႵ Ⴑ ჀႱႽჀႵჂႵႴ ჂႹႳႸ ჉ႿჅႾႷ ႼႱႴ჉ნ

ჷႾ ჄჂჅჄႸლ ჺႹჅ ჶႱႾ჊ႸႹ ჇႱჃ ჃჄႹႼႼ ჺႹჅ ჶႱႾ჊ႸႹჩ ႹჄ ჇႱჃ ႽႵჂႵႼ჉ ჄႸႵ ႳႼႿჄႸႵჃლ ႳჂႱႶჄႵႴ Ⴒ჉ ჰႱႹ ႧႱႾჇႱႾ ႶჂႿႽ ჀႱჀႵჂლ ჄႸႱჄ ႵႾႸႱႾႳႵႴ ႸႵჂ ჄႵႽჀႵჂႱႽႵႾჄნ

ჶႿჇႵ჆ႵჂლ ႳႿႽჀႱჂႵႴ ჄႿ ჄႸႵ Ⴕ჈ჁჅႹჃႹჄႵႼ჉ ႴჂႵჃჃႵႴ ჺႹჅ ჶႱႾ჊ႸႹლ ჰႱႹ ႧႱႾჇႱႾვჃ ႱჄჄႹჂႵ ჇႱჃ ႾႿჄႹႳႵႱႲႼ჉ ႽჅႳႸ ႽႿჂႵ ႿჂႴႹႾႱჂ჉ნ

ႤႸႹჃ ჇႱჃ ႽႱႹႾႼ჉ ႲႵႳႱჅჃႵ ჺႹჅ ჶႱႾ჊ႸႹვჃ ႳႼႿჄႸႵჃ ႳႿჅႼႴ ႲႵ ႽႱႴႵ ႶჂႿႽ ჀႱჀႵჂ ႵႶႶႹႷႹႵჃლ ჇႸႹႼႵ ჰႱႹ ႧႱႾჇႱႾვჃ ႸႱႴ ჄႿ ႲႵ ႲႿჅႷႸჄ ჇႹჄႸ ႽႿႾႵ჉ნ

ჶႱ჆ႹႾႷ ႺჅჃჄ ႲႱჂႵႼ჉ ႳႼႹႽႲႵႴ ႿჅჄ ႿႶ ჀႿ჆ႵჂჄ჉ლ ჰႱႹ ႧႱႾჇႱႾ ႾႱჄჅჂႱႼႼ჉ ႴႹႴႾვჄ ႸႱ჆Ⴕ Ⴕ჈ჄჂႱ ႽႿႾႵ჉ ჄႿ ႲჅ჉ ႸႵჂჃႵႼႶ ႾႹႳႵ ႳႼႿჄႸႵჃნ

ႣႸႵ ჇႿჂႵ Ⴑ ჃႹႽჀႼႵ ႺႱႳႻႵჄლ Ⴑ ჃႸႹჂჄლ ႱႾႴ ჃჇႵႱჄჀႱႾჄჃლ ႱႼႿႾႷ ჇႹჄႸ Ⴑ ჀႱႹჂ ႿႶ ჇႸႹჄႵ ჃႾႵႱႻႵჂჃნ ႣႸႵ ႳႱჂჂႹႵႴ Ⴑ ჃႽႱႼႼ ႲႱႳႻჀႱႳႻ ႳႿႾჄႱႹႾႹႾႷ ჃႿႽႵ ჃႾႱႳႻჃლ ჇႱჄႵჂლ ႱႾႴ ჄႸႱჄ ჃჄႱႳႻ ႿႶ ႶႿႼႴႵႴ ჃჀႹჂႹჄ ႽႿႾႵ჉ნ

ჺႹჅ ჶႱႾ჊ႸႹ ႷႱ჊ႵႴ ႱჄ ჰႱႹ ႧႱႾჇႱႾლ ჇႸႿ ჇႱჃ ႼႵႱႾႹႾႷ ႿႾ ႸႵჂ ჃႸႿჅႼႴႵჂლ ႼႿႿႻႹႾႷ ႱჄ ႸႵჂ ႾႿႽႹႾႱႼ ႼႹჄჄႼႵ ႲჂႹႴႵლ ႱႾႴ ႶႿჂ Ⴑ ႽႿႽႵႾჄლ ჃႸႵ ჇႱჃ ႼႿჃჄ ႹႾ ჄႸႿჅႷႸჄნ

“ႣႸႵ’Ⴣ ჄჂჅႼ჉ ႲႵႱჅჄႹႶჅႼ…”

ჶႵჂ ႶႱႹჂლ ჂႿჃ჉ ႶႱႳႵ ႱႾႴ Ⴕ჈ჁჅႹჃႹჄႵႼ჉ ჃႳჅႼჀჄႵႴ ႶႵႱჄჅჂႵჃ ႽႱႴႵ ႹჄ ჃႵႵႽ ႱჃ ႹႶ ႱႼႼ ჄႸႵ ႲႵႱჅჄ჉ ႹႾ ჄႸႵ ჇႿჂႼႴ ႸႱႴ ႷႱჄႸႵჂႵႴ ჅჀႿႾ ႸႵჂნ

ჯჃ ჄႸႵ ჄႱ჈Ⴙ ႴჂႿ჆Ⴕ ჄႸჂႿჅႷႸ Ⴑ ჄჅႾႾႵႼლ ჄႸႵ჉ ႱჂჂႹ჆ႵႴ ႱჄ ჺႹჅ ჶႱႾ჊ႸႹვჃ ႴႵჃჄႹႾႱჄႹႿႾნ

“ႧႱႾჇႱႾლ ჇႱႻႵ ჅჀნ”

ჺႹჅ ჶႱႾ჊ႸႹ ႷႵႾჄႼ჉ ႾჅႴႷႵႴ ჰႱႹ ႧႱႾჇႱႾლ ჇႸႿ ჄႸႵႾ ჃႼႿჇႼ჉ ႿჀႵႾႵႴ ႸႵჂ Ⴕ჉ႵჃ ႱႾႴ ႼႿႿႻႵႴ ႱჂႿჅႾႴნ

ႤႸႹჃ ჇႱჃ Ⴑ ჃႽႱႼႼ ჄႿჇႾ ႾႵჃჄႼႵႴ ႱჄ ჄႸႵ ႶႿႿჄ ႿႶ Ⴑ ႽႿჅႾჄႱႹႾლ ႶႱჂ ႶჂႿႽ ჄႸႵ ႳႹჄ჉ნ ႤႸႱႾႻჃ ჄႿ ႹჄჃ ႽႿჅႾჄႱႹႾႿჅჃ ႼႿႳႱჄႹႿႾლ ჄႸႵ ႵႾ჆ႹჂႿႾႽႵႾჄ ჇႱჃ Ⴕ჈ႳႵႼႼႵႾჄლ ႱႾႴ Ⴕ჆ႵႾ ჄႸႵ ႱႹჂ ჇႱჃ ႶჂႵჃႸნ

“ႤႸႵ ႥႾႴႵჂჇႿჂႼႴ ჳႽႹჃჃႱჂ჉ ႹჃ ႸႵჂႵჭ”

ჯႶჄႵჂ ჀႱ჉ႹႾႷ ჄႸႵ ჄႱ჈Ⴙ ႶႱჂႵლ ჰႱႹ ႧႱႾჇႱႾ ႶႿႼႼႿჇႵႴ ჺႹჅ ჶႱႾ჊ႸႹ ႹႾჄႿ ჄႸႵ ჄႿჇႾნ

ႤႸႵ ჄႿჇႾ ჇႱჃ ჁჅႹჄႵ ჁჅႱႹႾჄლ ႱႾႴ ჄႸႵჂႵ ჇႱჃ Ⴕ჆ႵႾ ႱႾ ႱႾႳႹႵႾჄმႼႿႿႻႹႾႷ ႱჂႳႸჇႱ჉ ჃჄႱႾႴႹႾႷ ჄႸႵჂႵნ

“ႨႹჂႱႾႷ ႤႿჇႾჭ”

ჰႱႹ ႧႱႾჇႱႾ ჂႵႱႴ ჄႸႵ ႱႾႳႹႵႾჄ ႳႸႱჂႱႳჄႵჂჃ ႿႾ ჄႸႵ ႱჂႳႸჇႱ჉ლ ႶႵႵႼႹႾႷ ჄႸႱჄ ჄႸႵ ႾႱႽႵ ႸႱႴ Ⴑ ႳႵჂჄႱႹႾ ႿჀჀჂႵჃჃႹ჆Ⴕ ჁჅႱႼႹჄ჉ნ

“ႩႵჃლ ჂႹႷႸჄ ႸႵჂႵ ႹႾ ჄႸႹჃ ჄႿჇႾნ ჷ’჆Ⴕ ႹႾჄႵჂႱႳჄႵႴ ჇႹჄႸ ႸႵჂ Ⴑ ႶႵჇ ჄႹႽႵჃ ႲႵႶႿჂႵლ ႽႱႹႾႼ჉ ႸႿჀႹႾႷ ჄႿ ჀႱ჉ ႸႵჂ ჄႿ ႸႵႼჀ ႽႵ ჂႵႹႾႳႱჂႾႱჄႵლ ႲჅჄ Ⴝ჉ ჀჂႿႲႼႵႽ ႹჃ ჄႿႿ ჄႸႿჂႾ჉ლ Ⴕ჆ႵႾ ჃႸႵ ႸႱჃ ႾႿ ჃႿႼჅჄႹႿႾნ”

ჺႹჅ ჶႱႾ჊ႸႹ ჃႱႹႴლ ႼႵႱႴႹႾႷ ჰႱႹ ႧႱႾჇႱႾ ჄႿ ႱႾ ႱႾႳႹႵႾჄმႼႿႿႻႹႾႷ ႳႿჅჂჄ჉ႱჂႴნ ჼႵႱჂ ჄႸႵ ႳႿჅჂჄ჉ႱჂႴ ჇႱჃ Ⴑ ႶჅႾႵჂႱႼ ჃჅჀჀႼႹႵჃ ჃႸႿჀნ

ႤႸႹჃ ႶჅႾႵჂႱႼ ჃჅჀჀႼႹႵჃ ჃႸႿჀ ჇႱჃ ჁჅႹჄႵ ႼႱჂႷႵ ႱႾႴ ႼႿႳႱჄႵႴ ႱႼႿႾႷ ჄႸႵ ჃჄჂႵႵჄლ ჇႸႹႳႸ ჃჅჂჀჂႹჃႵႴ ჰႱႹ ႧႱႾჇႱႾნ

ჺႿႷႹႳႱႼႼ჉ლ ჃჅႳႸ Ⴑ ჃႸႿჀ ჃႸႿჅႼႴ ႲႵ ჄჅႳႻႵႴ ႱჇႱ჉ ႹႾ Ⴑ ႳႿჂႾႵჂლ ჂႵႼ჉ႹႾႷ ႿႾ ჇႿჂႴმႿႶმႽႿჅჄႸ ჄႿ ႱჄჄჂႱႳჄ ႲჅჃႹႾႵჃჃნ ჯႶჄႵჂ ႱႼႼლ ႲႵႹႾႷ ႿႾ Ⴑ ႲჅჃჄႼႹႾႷ ႽႱႹႾ ჂႿႱႴლ ႹჄ ჇႿჅႼႴ ჃჅჂႵႼ჉ ႽႱႻႵ ႼႹ჆ႹႾႷ ჀႵႿჀႼႵ ႶႵႵႼ Ⴑ ႲႹჄ ჅႾႵႱჃ჉ ჄႿ ჃႵႵ ႹჄნ

“ჶႵႼႼႿლ ႹჃ ჻ႹჃჃ ჺႹ ႹႾჭ”

ჺႹჅ ჶႱႾ჊ႸႹ ႻႾႿႳႻႵႴ ႿႾ ჄႸႵ ႴႿႿჂნ ჰႵႶႿჂႵ ႼႿႾႷლ ჄႸႵ ႴႿႿჂ ႿჀႵႾႵႴ Ⴑ ႳჂႱႳႻლ ႱႾႴ ႱႾ ႿႼႴ ჇႿႽႱႾ ჇႹჄႸ Ⴑ ჃႳႱჂჂႵႴ ႶႱႳႵ ႱႾႴ ႿႾႵ ႲႼႹႾႴ Ⴕ჉Ⴕ ჀႿႻႵႴ ႸႵჂ ႸႵႱႴ ႿჅჄლ ჃჄႱჂჄႼႹႾႷ ჰႱႹ ႧႱႾჇႱႾნ

“ჽႼႴ ႧႿႽႱႾლ ჇႵ’ჂႵ ႼႿႿႻႹႾႷ ႶႿჂ ჻ႹჃჃ ჺႹნ”

ჺႹჅ ჶႱႾ჊ႸႹლ ႸႿჇႵ჆ႵჂლ ჃႵႵႽႵႴ ႾႱჄჅჂႱႼლ ႱჃ ႹႶ ჃႸႵ ႸႱႴ ႼႿႾႷ ႲႵႵႾ ႱႳႳჅჃჄႿႽႵႴ ჄႿ ႹჄნ

ჯႶჄႵჂ ჃႳჂჅჄႹႾႹ჊ႹႾႷ ჄႸႵ ჄჇႿ ჇႹჄႸ ႸႵჂ ႳႼႿჅႴ჉ Ⴕ჉ႵჃ ႱႾႴ ႵႽჀჄ჉ Ⴕ჉Ⴕ ჃႿႳႻႵჄლ ჄႸႵ ႿႼႴ ჇႿႽႱႾ ႶႹႾႱႼႼ჉ ႿჀႵႾႵႴ ჄႸႵ ႳႿჅჂჄ჉ႱჂႴ ႷႱჄႵნ

ჰႱႹ ႧႱႾჇႱႾ ჇႱႼႻႵႴ ႹႾჄႿ ჄႸႵ ႳႿჅჂჄ჉ႱჂႴ ႱႾႴ ႶႿჅႾႴ ჄႸႱჄ ႹჄ ჇႱჃ ႹႾႴႵႵႴ Ⴕ჈ჄჂႱႿჂႴႹႾႱჂ჉ნ ႤႸႵ ჴႵႾႷ ႣႸჅႹ ჇႱჃ ႽႵჄႹႳჅႼႿჅჃႼ჉ ႱჂჂႱႾႷႵႴლ ႱႾႴ ჄႸႵ ႹჄႵႽჃ ႸႱႾႷႹႾႷ ႹႾჃႹႴႵ ჇႵჂႵ ჀႵჂႶႵႳჄႼ჉ ჀႼႱႳႵႴლ ႵႱႳႸ ჃႵჂ჆ႹႾႷ Ⴑ ჀჅჂჀႿჃႵნ

ႤႸႵ ႿჇႾႵჂ ჇႱჃ ႴႵႶႹႾႹჄႵႼ჉ Ⴑ ႽႵჄႹႳჅႼႿჅჃ ჀႵჂჃႿႾლ ჇႹჄႸ Ⴑ ჆ႵჂ჉ ႴႵႵჀ ჅႾႴႵჂჃჄႱႾႴႹႾႷ ႿႶ ႶႿႼႻ ႳჅჃჄႿႽჃნ

“ჽႸლ ႹჃႾ’Ⴤ ჄႸႹჃ ჻ႹჃჃ ჺႹჅჭ ჷ ჄႿႼႴ ჉ႿჅლ ჷ ႳႱႾ’Ⴤ ჃႿႼ჆Ⴕ ჉ႿჅჂ ჀჂႿႲႼႵႽნ”

ჯ ჇႿႽႱႾ’Ⴣ ჆ႿႹႳႵ ႳႱႽႵ ႶჂႿႽ ჄႸႵ ႽႱႹႾ ႸႱႼႼ ႹႾ ჄႸႵ ႳႵႾჄႵჂნ ჳ჆ႵႾ ჄႸႿჅႷႸ ჄႸႵჂႵ ჇႱჃ Ⴑ ႴႿႿჂ ႲႵჄჇႵႵႾ ჄႸႵႽლ ჰႱႹ ႧႱႾჇႱႾ ႱႾႴ ჄႸႵ ႿჄႸႵჂჃ ႳႿჅႼႴ ႳႼႵႱჂႼ჉ ႸႵႱჂ ႸႵჂ ჆ႿႹႳႵნ

“ႤႸႹჃ ჻ႹჃჃ ჺႹ ႸႱჃ Ⴑ ჃჄჂႱႾႷႵ ჀႵჂჃႿႾႱႼႹჄ჉ნ ႣႸႵ ႾႵ჆ႵჂ ႹႾ჆ႹჄႵჃ ჀႵႿჀႼႵ ႹႾჃႹႴႵ ჄႿ ჄႱႼႻლ ჃႿ ႱႾ჉ჄႸႹႾႷ ჄႸႱჄ ႾႵႵႴჃ ႴႹჃႳჅჃჃႹႾႷ ႹჃ ႴႿႾႵ ႹႾ ჄႸႵ ႳႿჅჂჄ჉ႱჂႴნ”

ჺႹჅ ჶႱႾ჊ႸႹ Ⴕ჈ჀႼႱႹႾႵႴ ჄႿ ჰႱႹ ႧႱႾჇႱႾლ ჄႸႵႾ ჀჂႿႳႵႵႴႵႴ ჄႿ ჃჄႱჄႵ ჄႸႵႹჂ ჀჅჂჀႿჃႵ ჄႿ ჻ႹჃჃ ჺႹნ

ႥჀႿႾ ႸႵႱჂႹႾႷ ჄႸႱჄ ჰႱႹ ႧႱႾჇႱႾ ჇႱႾჄႵႴ ႸႵჂ ႥႾႴႵჂჇႿჂႼႴ ჳႽႹჃჃႱჂႹႵჃ ჄႿ ႸႵႼჀ ႴႵႼႹ჆ႵჂ ႷႿႿႴჃლ ჻ႹჃჃ ჺႹ ႳႿჅႼႴႾვჄ ႸႵႼჀ ႲჅჄ ႲჅჂჃჄ ႿჅჄ ႼႱჅႷႸႹႾႷნ

“ჯჂႵ ჉ႿჅ ჃႵჂႹႿჅჃჭ ႥႾႴႵჂჇႿჂႼႴ ჳႽႹჃჃႱჂႹႵჃ ႴႿႾ’Ⴤ ႼႱႳႻ ჉ႿჅჂ ჀႱႼჄჂ჉ ႿႶႶႵჂႹႾႷჃნ ჷ ႱႴ჆ႹჃႵ ჉ႿჅ ჄႿ ႷႹ჆Ⴕ ჅჀ ႿႾ ჄႸႱჄ ႹႴႵႱნ”

჻ႹჃჃ ჺႹ’Ⴣ ჆ႿႹႳႵ ႱႼჂႵႱႴ჉ ႳႱჂჂႹႵႴ Ⴑ ႸႹႾჄ ႿႶ ႴႹჃႽႹჃჃႱႼნ

“ႤႸႵႾ… ჀႼႵႱჃႵლ ჻ႹჃჃ ჺႹლ ႶႹჂჃჄ ჄႱႻႵ Ⴑ ႼႿႿႻ ႱჄ ႿჅჂ ჃႹႾႳႵჂႹჄ჉ნ”

ჺႹჅ ჶႱႾ჊ႸႹ ჃႱႹႴლ ႷႵჃჄჅჂႹႾႷ ႶႿჂ ჰႱႹ ႧႱႾჇႱႾ ჄႿ ჄႱႻႵ ႿჅჄ ჄႸႵ ႶႿႼႴႵႴ ჃჀႹჂႹჄ ႽႿႾႵ჉ნ

Burning Love Letters at Midnight, the Tsundere Ghost Wife Haunts My Dreams

After going bankrupt and losing my job as a customer service rep, I turned to late-night livestreams crafting paper effigies—only to become an underworld sensation. But my newfound fame attracted a horde of possessive ghost brides. “The last set of immortal-binding ropes has been bought by our top patron, sis~” “Freshly woven paper-red silk, so strong even the King of Hell can’t break free❤” “Huh? You ladies want to… test them yourselves? W-Wait—” Now, tied up like a dumpling in a paper wedding chamber, I finally understand— They were never obsessed with my paper crafts… but with me. The qipao-clad ghost presses her bone hairpin to my throat: “The flowers you fold belong only to me.” The crimson bride drapes her veil over my eyes: “The wedding gowns you burn are mine alone to wear.” “The paper dolls you cut…” Their icy fingers trace my face in a hungry chorus, “…must bear only our likeness, forever❤” “You ghosts only ever think about yourselves!” “Lies—our thoughts are full of you!”

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